Cookin' in the Kitchen Makin' Whoopie Pies
by gabby1017
Summary: Murphy's law has ruled Bella's day. She got up late, hit her head, stubbed her toe, bashed her hand, her truck stalled and her cook quit on her. But her Diner's partner, Alice, has saved the day. Big Brother, Edward the 5-star chef , does some heavy cookin'... and makin' some whoopie... pies. Last scene is all heavy lemons. This was my donation for the No Kids Hungry.


_Hi Everyone... This was my story for "No Kid Hungry" Project. We writers were able to raise over $3900 for this cause._

_My Beta, Lindacullenboyz, did her editing magic._

_And as usual, the characters belong to SM... I just borrowed them for a bit._

Cookin' in the Kitchen – Makin' Whoopie... pies

_Murphy's law has ruled Bella's day. She got up late, hit her head, stubbed her toe, bashed her hand, her truck stalled and her cook quit on her. But her Diner's partner, Alice, has saved the day. Big Brother, Edward (the 5-star chef), does some heavy cookin'... and makin' some whoopie... pies._

_From the Murphy's law site:_

_Murphy's Law ("If anything can go wrong, it will") was born at Edwards Air Force Base in 1949 at North Base._

It was named after Capt. **Edward **A. Murphy, an engineer working on Air Force Project MX981, (a project) designed to see how much sudden deceleration a person can stand in a crash.

One day, after finding that a transducer was wired wrong, he cursed the technician responsible and said, "If there is any way to do it wrong, he'll find it."

The contractor's project manager kept a list of "laws" and added this one, which he called Murphy's Law.

I start to wake up from the auto alarm in my head. The room is dark with only a stream of moonlight, peeking through the vertical blinds. The window is slightly open with a cold breeze seeping into the room. I am so comfortable under my warm blanket and soft, full pillows that I don't want to move. Just five more minutes. I turn to my side and bundle the blanket around my shoulders up under my neck. I sigh. So comfy. I can take a few more minutes, humming my pleasure. My eyes flutter shut again and I fall deep within sleep. _Mmm_.

True to my inner clock, I awake with an urgency of desperation and anxiety. I look at my alarm clock to see it's 4:00 AM. Oh crap, I'll be late.

Scurrying out of my blanket with difficulty and feeling the chill, I fall to the hard wood floor, bumping my forehead, slamming my hand into the night stand and stubbing my toe, as I run into the bathroom. These are war wounds, causalities of my morning klutziness.

For some God forsaken reason, my shower water won't turn warm. I don't have the time to wait. So, I scream through all my sushes: **the **shower, **the** shampoo, **the **condi**tion** and **the** shave (my legs and under armpits). Once my routine is complete, the water turns warm. _Not my day._

I dry myself as quickly as I can for the cold seeps into my bones and I shiver. _Burrr._

I'm a freak for my underclothes. Nothing like a matching, extremely, feminine pale blue bra and panties set of soft satin lace. Reminds me of my porno ways. But I dress in a black, over-sized T-shirt that hangs to my knees and baggy jeans with worn sneakers for work. My style is not a fashion plate, but movable.

The time passes too quickly and, after I make up a basic face of a little eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss, I have no time to dry my hair. I comb my waist-length locks in a medium-low ponytail through a Mariner's cap, slide my hoodie on, grab my cell, head out the front door, and down the steps to my dinosaur of a truck in the driveway. I put the key in the ignition, give a turn and the engine coughs and whines. Begging with my head on the steering wheel, I get the engine to finally turn over and I am on my way, praying that the little bit of gas gets to me work without sputtering dead. I roll into the diner's empty back parking lot on the remaining fumes.

As I approach the back entrance, the door flings open and Alice scornfully reprimands me, "Bella, you're late!"

"No shit," I spit. "Why do you have flour all over you?"

"I started the biscuits and rolls for you," she huffs. "Man, it's tough rolling that stuff out."

"No shit!"

I look around the kitchen and there's flour all over the floor and counter tops. "Alice, what did you do? Flour isn't fairy dust!"

She sticks her tongue out. "Very funny. I'm your partner, not the baker. That's your job."

She walks toward the swinging door and looks over her shoulder. "Next time, Sleeping Beauty, you'll get up on time! Beggars shouldn't be choosers!" She exits, leaving me to clean up her mess.

I mumble, "Some best friend."

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

The rolls and biscuits are in the ovens. Pies, cookies and muffins cool in the baker's racks. Two twenty-quart industrial mixers blend two kinds of cake batter. And I drag out two large containers of vanilla and chocolate frosting, hoisting them onto the counter.

It's 5:30AM and the breakfast crowd will be here within thirty minutes and my first-shift cook is nowhere in sight.

Alice walks back into the kitchen. "Ah, Bella?"

"Yessss, Alice, "I sing, looking up from my cake pans.

"There was a message on the answering machine."

"From whom?" I squint.

"Paul."

"And?" I feel the ball about to fall.

"He's not coming into work," she quietly whines.

"Why?" I feel a headache coming on.

"Actually, he quit." She closes her eyes and covers her ears with her hands.

No, I won't yell. I take a deep breath, rub my eye sockets, pull my hat back and

start dipping my fingers into the chocolate frosting. I eat a handful.

Alice cringes in disgust. "Is that sanitary?" She pretends to gag.

"Nope. Don't care." I eat another scoop of frosting.

"Bella, stop eating that. You'll break out." Alice warns.

"I don't care, Alice." And I lose it. "I woke up late to a cold room, hit my hand, stubbed my toe, and banged my head. I didn't have warm water for my shower, my truck wouldn't start right away and now my cook just quit."

"Well, technically, from his message, he quit last night," she spews.

"What else can go wrong?" I look at Alice. "Would you call Jake and see if he can come in and I'll cover the dinner shift?"

"Um, Bella?" she squeaks. "Jake was supposed to work this morning, but he switched with Paul. He went fishing with his dad. Ah, on the lake, without his phone." She ducks.

Smart girl. I throw the cake pans. They are empty and make one hell of a noise.

"Bella, stop!" She ducks behind the table with her eyes peaking out over the side. "Bella, no more chocolate. You know what it does to you."

"Sure, I become an oversexed, highly skilled manipulator of the male gonads and shaft" I sing, "shut your mouth, I'm a bad motherfff..." And I continue with my rant, "lustfully needing a male counterpart. Or his parts... big dick... Put the head in park. Whoo hoo." I laugh... "So high on the sugar and caffeine of the chocolate frosting." I scream playfully, "I need a stick shift with power... vroom, vroom..." And holds a high-pitched falsetto, raspy note with her arm up. "Baby, you can drive my car. Yes I'm gonna be a star. Baby you can drive me car. And maybe I'll love you. Beep beep'm beep beep yeah."

"Bella, you need some water!" Alice cries out.

"Too late. More chocolate!" I take another scoop and swallow it down.

"Bella, you're getting a zit on your chin!" Alice screams.

I stop, take a deep breath and run to the sink with my hands over my mouth. I turn the faucet on and scoop water down my throat with large gulps. The panic runs through me, as I heave for air.

Alice quickly jumps behind me and rubs my back in a circular motion. "Just take small breaths, Bella. You're having one of your panic attacks. It's okay. I'm here with you," she softly whispers in my ear. "C'mon, sweetie, you can do this. The Bella I know is strong and fierce."

I hold my hands to my chest and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, in a rhythmic manner. Alice walks around to look me in the eyes, holding both of my hands. "Just focus, Bellie Bee!"

I nod my head and she hugs me close.

"Thanks, Alice," I say into her hair.

"Anytime."

"Okay, while the cakes bake, I will prep for breakfast." I talk to myself. "Pump me up, I can do this."

"That's my girl. And I'll help you." She smiles. "We are partners in crime, Bellie Bee."

"Stop with the Bellie Bee." I stare at her. "Yup, I'm good."

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

No sooner than we open our doors, the morning regulars settle themselves down at the counter. Old man Keatting comes for his toast, eggs and black coffee. He eats with impeccable manners, tips well and comes back later for his chicken steak dinner. Officers Crowley, Newton and Yorkie order cheese omelets, hash browns, bacon, biscuits, juice and milk with cookies to go. And Mr. Banner, my old Biology teacher, picks up a take out order of muffins, cream cheese, jelly and coffee with the works.

These orders are simple and I can do them in my sleep. My counter girls, Jess and Lauren don't write out the slips. When they are ready, they serve them.

The floor girls, Angela and Vicky, will either write out the order or the person's name.

Lunchtime is my downfall. We get two Charter buses of wayward movie fans doing a tour of the city. I need extra cooking hands. Alice can only so so much.

With frantic eyes of shear panic, I huff, "Alice, I really can't do all of this. What are we going to do? There forty-seven crazy, fan people out there expecting lunch!"

Alice reassures me, "Bella, okay, let me think. I will handle this." She takes out her cell and walks out the back.

I concentrate on the forty-seven starving, screaming, giddy fan people. Most want hamburgers and fries.

It's so hot in the kitchen, I shed my baggy jeans for short-shorts and a tank top.

I stand over the large grill flipping the burgers and jump to the deep fryer, shaking the baskets of fries. The front door opens, I look up and freeze. Alice with a huge smile leads the man who owns my heart of my meager existence.

Edward.

Her brother.

The five star gourmet chef.

In my diner.

The man with the sexy bed hair, steamy green eyes, broad shoulders, slim waist, nice muscular thighs and arms. And the list goes on and on.

As he takes off his jacket, I see the low rise of his jeans on his hips. Oh yes, my eyes wander to the forbidden ground.

Alice escorts him into the back. While Jess, Lauren, Angela and Viki all swoon.

I keep my head down. I am so glad I have my Mariner's cap on. Thank you, God. Hallelujah, something finally is right for today.

"Bella, look who's here!" Alice excitedly screams.

I look up to his exquisite face with an endearing smile. I can barely whisper, "Edward."

He takes two steps forward and wraps me into his arms for a very tight hug. A long, tight hug. I close my eyes and hold my breath, but take in his smell. It's Edward, all right. I'd know that smell anywhere. Masculine, strong and so familiar.

He whispers into my ear, "Bella." I shiver and heat up all at once. Well, my body shivers, but my lady parts flow and burn.

We pull apart. "Hi, Edward. What are you doing here?"

"Alice said you are in a bind. I came to help." He smiles.

"But Edward. You're a five star chef!" I moan.

He holds my chin and looks me in the eyes. "I used to work in this diner, remember?"

"Yeah, but..." I sigh.

"But nothing. This isn't a walk in the park." He shakes his head. "Now, do what you normally do and I'll man the grill." He turns me around and slaps my ass soundly.

I blush. Oh, yeah, I blush all over. "Ok."

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

"Order up," Edward shouts out to the front.

I scoot from the side of him, as he plates another order and hand him a small bowl of vegetables.

He smiles. "You know you are quite a cook."

I blush and roll my eyes. "I'm nothing like you!"

"No, you're not," he quietly admits, "You're better."

Okay, then we have silence.

"By the way, what happened to the Whoopie Pies?" he asks.

I crunch up my nose in question, "What Whoopie Pies?"

"Well, basically you have the same menu, but no Whoopie Pies. I used to love those. Mrs. Phillips would make a batch, every day," he passionately explains.

"When Alice and I bought the place from her, she gave us all the recipes. There wasn't anything for Whoopie Pies, Edward," I honestly tell him. "What are Whoopie Pies?"

He closes his eyes and swoons, "The most creamy, delectable piece of heaven you are every going to temp your taste buds with. The filling is a fluffy, light marshmallow cream between two moist, succulent chocolate cakes. They are round like a cookie and soft like cake. Once you have one, you can't go back."

"Hmmm, sounds delicious," I moan.

He turns and closes in on me like a man with a plan with sex on his... I drift. "I guess I need to make those Whoopie Pies for you."

He walks back to his station, as I hold onto the table for support. Legs are Jello. I don't have a spine. My girls bits throb. And I don't have spit.

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*

The lunch crowd thins out and we slow up, before the dinner rush.

Edward walks out to the back for a break, while I go into the walk-in refrigerator to cool off. His body heat next to mine is all that I can take.

The door opens and Alice peeks her head in. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I needed to cool off." I awkwardly smile.

Alice nods. "I figured as much." She giggles, "You both over heat one another."

I frown. "What do you mean by that, Alice?"

She walks into the refrigerator and closes the door. "Oh C'mon, Bella. You and Edward have so much sexual tension the room's about to explode."

I look at her, shaking my head. "Alice, the kitchen is hot."

"Bullshit," she giggles. "You two are hot for each other. Edward hasn't taken his eyes off of you. And you keep staring at his ass."

"I have not stared at his ass," I defend myself.

"Then, you've been looking at his junk!" She points at me. "Ha, I gotcha!"

I try to open my mouth, but I hang my head. "Alice, I have loved him forever."

"Yeah, I know." She sighs. "And he has loved you. And neither one of you have done anything about it. So... " she trails off.

I stare at her. "So?" I wave my hands in a circular motion for her to continue.

"So, I gave Paul a few days off, so Edward could come to your rescue." She stands firm.

"You did what? He didn't quit?" I shout.

"Bella, Bella, Bella. Someone had to do something." She opens the refrigerator door. "Please, grow some balls and take this wonderful opportunity I have handed to you. Fuck my brother. He needs a good reason to move back home."

I just stand there with my mouth wide open, staring at the door.

**O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O***

Another team of tour buses rolls into town and we get extremely busy for dinner. Side by side, Edward and I prepare dish after dish. The sweat pours off the two of us.

Edward strips down to his wife beater, keeping his very low (_le sigh_), low jeans barely over his hips. His muscular biceps twitch with every movement. This is pure torture.

I give him one of my small handkerchiefs and he makes a headband across his forehead. Oh God, he's sex in motion.

Finally, we catch a break. Edward whips something up in one of the mixers. He stops the spinning, drags a finger to the edge of the bowl and dips the sweet cream into my mouth.

With his eyes on my lips, I lick the sticky substance off of his long, slim finger, lingering slowly up and down and around. I quietly purr to the exquisite taste of a sugar explosion on my tongue. I stick said tongue out to lap up any remaining cream on my lips. Edward watches in sheer memorization. My inner temptress captures his pending need.

He clear his throat. "What do you think?"

I smile. "Delicious."

"Best filling you every tasted?" he happily questions.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the filling. I was talking about the finger," I slyly grin and tilt my head, still licking it.

Edward eyes widen and he blushes. Finally, someone else turns beet red.

"Um, did you know that Paul didn't quit?" I ask him.

He frowns. "I thought that was the reason you needed my help."

"Nope." I pop the "p". Your sister had other ideas." I walk around him.

"I don't understand."

"Let me inform you, as she informed me." I smooth my fingers over the top of his shoulders. His breath hitches. "Alice, thought you and I needed some help." I pull up on my security straps and grow those balls, trail my finger into the bowl, scoop up some of the delight on my finger and wipe it on his lips.

Edward sticks his tongue out, but I place the tips of my fingers over the cream, home into his mouth and lightly kiss the corner of his lips. A low growl emanates from the back of his throat. Girlie bits. Girlie bits blaze afire, but I maintain my stance. I get closer, slide my hands up his arms into his soft, wild hair and kiss around the cream, licking ever so lightly.

Edward stands back, cups more cream into his hand and rubs it over my neck. He laces tiny kisses down my throat, licking and sucking. Each moment becomes harder and harder.

I'm not going to quiver... not going to quiver. I can do this. Edward holds me around the waist. I cling to his arms.

My heart races and pulses with every stroke of his tongue. His hands massage my back in circles and he grabs me forcefully, pushing me up against the wall. Pots and pans jar loose and fall above our heads. A small pan catches Edward on his eyebrow.

Both heaving, we don't take out eyes off one another.

Edward has a small gash and swelling over his right eyebrow. A little bit of blood drips down the side of his face.

I grab at a towel on the counter, raise my arm and gently pat the blood stain.

Edward closes his eyes, while placing his hand over mine.

"I've waited so long for this," he whispers. There is a shiver between us.

I can barely breathe. "What have you waited for?"

"Your touch, Bella." He opens his eyes. And ever so slowly, lightly brushes my lips with his own.

The tears flow from the corner of my eyes and I awkwardly smile at him. "I have loved you, since I was fourteen years old." I giggle. "You gave me my first kiss, Edward."

"My heart was racing, Bella. You gave me my first, " he hums behind my ear.

"I think I would like to continue..."

Hand in hand, we walk to the mixer. He looks at me for approval and I nod. Edward, once again, scoops up some of the sweet mixture and covers the other side of my neck. He flattens his tongue at the base of my collarbone and drags upward to my ear. He swirls, bites and licks. Okay now, I shiver from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. The sensation is erupting.

I mirror Edward's actions, but drop the sweetness to his pecs. Running my tongue over his hard nipples. I bite gently and run my nails over his erect mounds and taut muscles.

Edward exhales a large breath, grabs a full handful of frosting, lifts my tank top and rubs it all over my stomach and ribs. I, in turn, take the top off.

Eying my lace bra, Edward swirls the frosting up over my bra, squeezes me and attaches his mouth over my left breast and pinches my right.

I reach from behind, release the hooks and allow the bra to fall to the floor.

Edward stops short. We turn to see the pass-through's doors close and the sound of a lock of the diner's entrance.

A giggle... Alice.

We are alone.

Edward doesn't waste any time. He extends his arm over the stainless steel table and swipes everything off of it. He hoists me upon on the steel and gently kisses me, his tongue twirling with mine. He hovers over me, as he pushes me onto my back. The cold of the steel calms me down.

Grabbing my wrists over my head, Edward's hands begin their descent, smearing the goo all over my body. His mouth trailing a path to my stomach. He nips and sucks at my navel. Oh my girlie bits smolder from the flames that burn. And he continues to ignite the fire.

Leaning up on his elbows, his glistening face implores me, "Bella, do you trust me?"

Words escape me, but I nod.

Edward goes back to the mixer and scoops up handfuls of filling, placing all of it to the side. He grabs my ankles and scoots my ass to the end of the table and lowers my shorts and panties off. He grabs the stool and sits between my legs, placing them comfortably onto his shoulders. I am completely exposed to him. And I don't give a fuck. I close my eyes in utter excitement and anticipation, as my heart races, my breathing quickens and my girlie bits soak up.

With an index finger full of more goo, he paints his way to my inner thighs. Switching from one leg to the other, Edward sucks deeply and massages my skin. The intensity builds with every stroke of his tongue. I want relief, I need relief.

I finally cry out, "Edward if you don't touch me already, I will just die!"

The vibration of his chuckles add to the frustration and I stare at him with daggers.

"I promise I won't disappoint you," he pleads.

"Yeah, but when it's your turn, you will get a devastatingly slow torture!" I quip.

"I'm counting on it." And that smile. "Now, stop interrupting me."

I lie back, as he spreads me wide and paints the frosting over my lips, all around the outside. His long, tapered fingers stroke my clit and I move with him, pushing for friction, wanting a release. He grabs my hips and sits me upon his chest, while he tastes my core, lapping and sucking. Oh, he bears down hard and I cry out. I am so close. The tightening, the numbness, my ears deafen and my heart races. So close. And his three fingers enter me, pumping hard and strong. As his fingers curl to work my g-spot, his tongue continues its assault, circling, more sucking... rougher and harder, faster and stronger. My eyes roll back into my head. He licks me and blows over my clit and I am one step closer.

"Look at me Bella," he shouts.

I turn to gaze into his eyes. His look is lustful with such desire and it "throws" me over and I explode with a shattering intensity, pulling the hair tie out of my hair and grabbing at my roots.

He watches my face and gets up, sliding my body onto his lap. He kisses my mouth, my neck, running his hands, those perfect hands, through my hair.

"I love you, Bella."

I clear my head and smile with arms around his neck. "God, I love you, Edward."

The passion rises up again. I gyrate over his erection, moving up and down his jeans-covered cock.

Unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down with his boxers, I reach for his fully erect shaft and pump him up and down. I grab for the frosting on the table and smear it all over him. Kneeling on the floor, as Edward sits on the stool, I suck up his pre-cum with one large lick, still pumping his very hard cock. Edward growls from the pressure of my tongue licking around his head, and nibbling down his center vein. He twitches and lifts his hips to move with my rhythm.

"Bella, I'm getting close," he pants.

"What do you want, Edward?" I gasp.

"I want to be inside you, Bella."

Edward joins me on the floor. Laying me back, he centers himself and slowly pushes his head into me. The stretch is a moment of pain and deep pleasure. He slowly withdraws and pushes back in. The pace increases and he begins to pound into me, rubbing my clit, roughly.

The burn starts up and I match Edward with his thrusts. Rougher, harder, faster, stronger.

I open my eyes to his and I feel him release; one, two, three times.

"Fuck, Baby!"

And we hold one another, sitting up. My legs stay wrapped abound him. He doesn't pull out. The connection feels too good. We are quiet in our thoughts, listening to our breaths.

I rest my head on his shoulder, rubbing his back and sigh.

"Why the sigh?" he softly whispers into my ear.

I tingle all over again. "Contented."

"Looks like I need to move back to Forks." He kisses my shoulder.

"Yes, you do. We need to add the Whoopie Pies to the menu."

And

I

smile.


End file.
